


Demon's Inside

by ThunderLyeson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fair warning for somewhat graphic violence, Gen, I don't even know any more, Induced self injury, Injury of some sort, Kidlock, Mycroft's an utter wanker in this, Nightmares, Sherlock's basically my go to guy when I'm out of my mind, To self, Well - Freeform, but still, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderLyeson/pseuds/ThunderLyeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's hard to tell between reality and nightmares. They both meld into each other, creating something that you could never imagine. And that's only the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demon's Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Based this off of my own past experiences. It's difficult. I was told this could help, so... you know.. have fun reading.

Sherlock felt like there was something crawling across his chest, digging itself into his skin, into his ribs, into his very being. He gasped, unshed tears showing at the edge of his eyes, scratching and digging his nails to get rid of the _thing_. They invaded his mind, his heart, his very soul and it was all so painful. He curled up on his bed, trying to stop himself from crying. He was 11. He could do this. He didn’t need anyone. He. Could. Do. This. He was mature enough to dream it away.

But he knew he couldn’t. Everything was so painful. When he opened his eyes, he saw what he felt against him. A spider. A man. A _thing._ It seemed like a cross between the two. Long spindly legs, a male shaped body. Yet, he knew it meant harm. He knew it was going to hurt him. With shaky hands, he picked up his phone, squirming underneath the thing, feeling it invading his eyes, his mouth, his ears, any little spot it could get into. Dialling the familiar number, he cried even more, his voice a mere stutter.

“M-My? Please. I don’t like it here. I want to come home. To you and mummy. _He’s_ here and I don’t like it. Please, _please_ can I come home? The other boys are mean... They call me names… It’s not different at all… I don’t _like_ it,” he almost screamed, the thing digging into his ribs, trying to reach his heart. His inner centre. The thing keeping him alive.

“Sherlock, calm down. Take deep breaths and remain with me,” Mycroft huffed, placing his pen down as he listened to his brother try and calm down but fail. “Remember what we used to do? When you were younger? Take a deep breath in. Hold it. And out. Come on. Repeat after me,” he placed his phone on loud speaker, letting it drop on the desk.

“…Myc,” Sherlock sobbed, thrashing on the bed, trying to regulate his breathing but not being able to. He was too scared. Far too scared. He could feel it claw at his chest, trying to get into his eyes, his ears, his everything. He clawed at his face, skin coming away as he started to bleed, his face a mess of scratches and bruises. He yelled for his brother, the phone falling from his hands before he fell back against the bed, whimpering.

Mycroft couldn’t help. Mycroft wouldn’t help. He was stuck there. His brother didn’t care. His brother never would. The monster whispered these words in such a light tone, as if talking about the weather, lips pressed against his ear. He clawed at his chest, digging his nails in and ripping, ignoring the yells of his brother.

The man didn’t care. He never would. He was all by himself. All. By. Himself.

He screamed, fists pressed into his eyes, shaking and shivering on the bed, crying for his Mummy. His Father. Mycroft. _Anyone._ He felt hands shaking him but lashed out at them, hating this whole thing. The darkness was fast approaching and he welcomed it with open arms, thinking he was safe. He was fine. The monster wasn’t here.

But it was. At the edges of his mind. It was there, hovering, grinning that sharp grin, approaching him slowly.

No.

Please.

_Stop._

 


End file.
